Ain Soph Aur
by NortheasternWind
Summary: A huge void in his heart. It is filled not with darkness, but kindness from others. Pre-Crisis Core.


If I owned Final Fantasy VII I would not be posting on Fanfiction.

This takes place before Sephiroth becomes proper friends with Genesis and Angeal. It works on the assumption that the poor guy was royally screwed up as a kid due to Hojo being a complete monster, so if you don't like emotionally stunted and socially confused teenagers you should probably leave.

...Well, you're still here, which means you either don't mind or just have a lot of faith in me. A line here has been ganked from a 30_quills prompt over at LJ and a pair of last names have been randomly taken from my classmates, so excuse that. And the numerous obvious allusions to other things. Thank you, and enjoy!

EDIT: Many thanks the LuckyLadybug, for pointing out a rather embarrassing typo T__T Obviously there are two Angeals in this army.

EDIT #2: Many more thanks go to Nos-Lowarn, for briefing this young American schoolgirl on how calling people "Sir" works. We'll, uh, just assume Sephiroth has some sort of military education. Man, I need to hurry up and get smarter.

* * *

"...iroth?

"Sephiroth!"

The young soldier started-- probably visibly, to his irritation-- and turned his gaze towards the source of the voice. The staff sergeant was standing in the door of the bunkroom, arms crossed sternly.

"I hope you've found perfect Buddha or something." he said dryly. "You haven't moved a muscle in almost an hour now, and you're not what I'd call an airhead."

Sephiroth stared at him a moment, then raised his arm to look at his watch. It was, indeed, ten before the hour, and he needed to be back in the training hall in forty minutes. He blinked and slid off the bunk.

"I didn't realize, Sergeant."

As he busied himself with looking for a coat he was not going to be allowed to wear anyway, Sephiroth felt himself grow hot with embarrassment. Ridiculous. He was usually the attentive and punctual one in the platoon, and now the staff sergeant was probably wondering--

"Is everything alright, Sephiroth?"

...wondering whether there was something wrong with him.

"I'm fine." he responded, perhaps a little too curtly. Mercifully, the only indication his superior gave of his disapproval was a little click of the tongue.

"If you're sure." He turned from the room, grabbing the doorknob behind him. "You've got over half an hour, so if you're late I'm holding you responsible."

The door shut behind his superior, and Sephiroth could not help but collapse back onto his bed with a sigh. He didn't feel like doing anything.

---

_Hewley! A word._

_Oh. Uh, excuse me... Yes, Sergeant?_

_You and Rhapsodos have spent the last half dozen or so missions with Sephiroth. Am I right?_

_Yes, sir. We're scheduled to go on another tomorrow, but without his supervision this time._

_The Wutai one, eh? I thought so. Well, I want you to go talk to him._

_Genesis and I?_

_No, just you. Rhapsodos is a little too emotional for this one._

_...Sir?_

_Sergeant. And I'm sure you know him well enough that you'll be able to actually get something out of him._

_Get something out of...? Sir--_

_He's antisocial, reclusive, a jackass. I know. _

_...That's not..._

_But I can tell when something is bothering him, and as usual he refuses to tell me what it is. So it's your job to go find out.  
_

_...Yes, sir. But why me?  
_

_Hewley, listen..._

* * *

"Sir?"

Sephiroth twitched, looking up from his seat on his bed. "I prefer 'Sephiroth,' if you don't mind."

Angeal poked a head through the door, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, Sephiroth. When in doubt, tack 'sir' on to the end. Right?"

"Mm. And don't salute indoors, either." Sephiroth added, before Angeal did that too. "Unless reporting. Usually you only salute when reporting or if you can see the sky overhead."

"Or if you're in the slums."

"...Yeah. That too."

Angeal laughed, closing the door behind him and taking a seat on his bunk-- which, incidentally, was opposite Sephiroth's.

"Are you alright?"

Somewhat predictably, Sephiroth's expression changed from somewhat amused to utterly deadpan.

"The staff sergeant put you up to this." he accused dully.

"I would've noticed and asked on my own. If you want to tell me what you're thinking about, I'm right here."

But Sephiroth snorted.

"No, thank you."

"It can't hurt. You might understand your thoughts a little better."

"I believe I understand what I'm thinking about, thank you very much."

"Do you know why you're not good at speeches, Sephiroth?"

Angeal saw the other stiffen, as though offended, but when Sephiroth said nothing he decided it was safe to continue. He'd known Sephiroth would listen after he said something like that. Angeal felt rather dishonest and manipulative now. He bowed his head.

"Everything looks good in your head. Every idea is a brilliant one. You know what you want to talk about, you know what you're going to draw, or write, or do, but... when you put those ideas into action, it never turns out as well as it looked in your head.

"The problem is that your ideas are just that: ideas. No one thinks in definite images or words; they're always piled one on top of the other, like when you forget to advance the film in a camera. Everyone's thoughts are incomplete: blurry and fragmented, and floating around in your mind of their own free will. Maybe what you're thinking of is a great idea, but you're thinking about it in a way-- It's in a format only your mind understands." Angeal tried to explain, finding that he was having the same problem he was describing. "And something always gets lost in the conversion.

"To understand your thoughts completely, you have to either be able to form a complete picture in your mind, or get the idea out of your brain and sort it out that way."

Angeal looked up at Sephiroth, who had raised his head and was listening intently.

"You know how to do that with combat, but words and people are beyond you."

Having finished his monologue, Angeal waited quietly for Sephiroth's reaction. The other soldier closed his eyes to think about his words a moment. Yes, what Angeal said was true. He had an idea how he'd somehow managed to pass almost an hour without realizing it-- only an idea. He'd have to hear his words out loud to understand, and he did not want to talk. He'd never been an emotional person, so who cared? He didn't have to understand.

...

Wasn't that something Hojo always said?

Angeal could see this logic battling with Sephiroth's instinctive desire to be alone.

"...You won't tell anyone?"

"Not even Genesis, if you want." Angeal promised.

Sephiroth glared at him a moment, trying to find a sign of dishonesty on Angeal's face and failing. Angeal wouldn't speak a word of it. His last concrete reason gone, Sephiroth collapsed into his bunk, rolled to face the wall instead of Angeal and broke his silence.

"...This is the army." he began slowly. "There's always the chance that someone will die, at some times more than others. You worry over someone dying, but when they do die, that's it. It was going to happen eventually, and there's no bringing them back, so why linger on it? You feel guilt, thinking you could have prevented it, and regret, that they didn't live longer, but that's it. You get used to it."

Angeal smiled softly. "It's not a nice thing to be used to."

The only acknowledgment Sephiroth made of Angeal's statement was a short pause. "Everyone joins the army knowing that it is likely they will not survive, and those who don't either leave or never had the choice anyway. You wish for their safety, but in the end they know what they are getting into. It's just a dull anticipation, waiting for the day when you are told they did not make it."

Sephiroth rolled so he was staring at the ceiling-- or, rather, the bottom of Valle's bunk.

"It's always there. That feeling."

He stopped there, but Angeal knew he was not finished. He was just starting. It seemed that now he had reached his real point, and was more reluctant to continue than ever. "Is that it?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "I'm used to that. It's something else."

The other soldier nodded, waiting for his superior to continue.

"...The Wutai mission."

And just like that, Angeal understood.

"Sephiroth--"

"Don't interrupt me, Angeal. The Wutai mission was supposed to go to Hippolyte and Valle. It's a dangerous trip, and those two are some of the few platoon members I can tolerate, so I've been worried. I'd really rather they didn't die.

"And then it was reassigned to you and Genesis."

It wasn't very hard to guess what was bothering Sephiroth now, but Angeal knew from his own advice that it would be better to allow Sephiroth to continue. He hadn't been especially kind to either Angeal or Genesis, but lately it seemed as though the teenage soldier gravitated towards the pair subconsciously. Genesis once commented that his eyes were more than distant; they were dead, as though some childhood trauma had prevented him from learning what was basic knowledge to other people: that there are ways to solve problems without fighting, that people need other people, and that while there is not always happiness with action, without action there was no happiness. He did not know what had happened to Sephiroth to make him this way, but Angeal was here to help-- and he was sure Genesis would gladly say the same.

"I wish they would give it back to Hippo and Valle." Sephiroth said, somewhat bitterly. "It didn't feel half as bad when it was them.

"I suppose... having spent the last seven missions with the two of you... the idea of that never happening again is...

"I'm afraid." he said finally, just realizing it himself. "Of course I worry for the others' lives, but with you two, I'm genuinely afraid that if you leave I am never going to see you again. It scares me, and I'm more afraid now than I think I've ever been in my life."

Sephiroth closed his eyes, and Angeal frowned. If Sephiroth thought of that as fear, then something was definitely wrong.

Angeal rolled on to his back, copying Sephiroth's earlier movement. "I guess if you've been thinking about it for an hour, that means you've never been that concerned for anyone but yourself before."

Angeal could feel the other soldier's scowl.

"I didn't mean it like that." he apologized. "I meant, you've never _had_ anyone to care about. Have you?"

"..."

_I guess not._

"Why make friends with dead men?"

Angeal started. "What?"

Apparently the scowl had never left Sephiroth's face, as Angeal could hear it in his voice now. "Everyone dies. If you're going to spend all your time worrying over when someone you care about will die, why bother?"

The poor country boy blinked. The reason was perfectly self-evident to him. How could he explain it?

"...People are like... lights." he said, rather difficultly. "Each person in this world is like a light, shining over their own section of the world. You can only see as far as your own light extends, so what you can't see might as well not exist at all."

He sat up and looked at Sephiroth; the younger soldier was smirking.

"Hmph. So the world ends with you."

"Yeah." Somewhat encouraged, Angeal continued. "But if you let other people in, you can see a bit of their world as well-- and your light and your world will keep expanding, until you can see forever."

There was silence. Angeal was not sure if the meaning of his words fully registered on Sephiroth, but he felt rather relieved that he'd managed to salvage an explanation at all. What in the world could possibly have happened, that Sephiroth...?

"I think I get it now."

But Angeal could tell that he did not-- at least partially. The young swordsman pushed himself upright, silver hair spilling over his shoulders. "Thank you, Angeal."

And now he glanced at his wristwatch and jumped out of his bunk, managing to slam his head on the bottom of Valle's before safely making his way out from under it.

"I have to be at the training hall in ten minutes." he said urgently, rubbing the back of his head as he reached down for the coat he'd thrown on to the nearby chair. "I rather hope this losing track of time thing doesn't become a habit."

"It won't." Angeal reassured him, a little amused at the sudden change in language mid-sentence. "I doubt you'll let that happen."

"You'd be surprised." Sephiroth said flatly. The youth grabbed a hair tie off the desk and swiftly put his hair into a manageable ponytail, frowning at his reflection in the window before spinning around to leave. "Don't forget your promise."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'd better not have to."

Sephiroth arrived at the door and paused.

"I guess... This makes us friends, now?"

Angeal smiled. "Yeah."

---

_Genesis._

_Hm? Sephiroth...?_

_Are you leaving soon?_

_As soon as we get leave from Sarge. We do an awful lot of waiting._

_Get used to it._

_...Yes, sir._

_My name is Sephiroth._

_I know that. ...Sir.  
_

_...Tch. _

_Yeah, sorry._

_Don't apologize. Here, take this with you._

_What is it?_

_Just make sure you never have to use it._

_A phoenix feather...? Do you know how rare these are?_

_I like to think so, considering how difficult it was to obtain._

_Did you take this from the company supplies?_

_Not really._

_What?_

_I'll see you later._

_What-- Sephiroth, wait! __He left... __Did he go out into the wasteland just to find this...?  
_


End file.
